Bashing Will Never Seperate Us
by MusicalRats
Summary: HummelBerry one shot in New York. Written in season 5, a few weeks after the episode BASH.


**Written in third point of view.**

 **Written after the episode** _ **BASH**_

"Kurt?" Santana called out in the bathroom. Her voice echoed back at her though the wide open apartment. She didn't know what she was thinking when she decided the join Kurt and Rachel on their fiasco of New York. She decided after a long amount of bribing from Kurt to use his products, only to see them completely vanished from the shelves.

"Mmm, what?" Kurt answered after a few minutes. Santana didn't even what to know what he was doing.

"Where are those products you insanely persuaded me to buy?" She asked him.

"Guys, please shut up. I need my beauty sleep," Santana heard a muffled shout in the direction of Rachel's room.

"Shut it, Berry. Where are they, Ladyface?" Santana demanded.

"Stop calling me that! And, for your information, I am using them."

"Oh, and _how_ exactly?" Santana sashayed past Kurt's closed curtains and raised a eyebrow. All she saw was Kurt putting them into different piles. "How sad," She muttered. Kurt looked like he saw a ghost and scurried to the edge of his bed.

"What is wrong with you?" He breathed out. "I told you, the curtain means privacy."

"I forgot," Was Santana's excuse. "Anyway can I use a pot? I want to look amazing for tomorrow when I see Brittany and we have our sweet lady kisses."

"Too much information, Santana," He said. "Anyway go wait in the living room for a bit, I need to find one that you can use."

"Kurt, if you do anything I will kick you," Santana huffed as she stomped into the living room to watch TV.

' _If he puts anything in the moisturiser, I will kick him and won't be pretty.'_ She thought whilst choosing something to watch on the TV. She glanced over at Arties partitioned area, which had no sign of movement from the inside. She was surprised that he hadn't woken up yet. Santana slumped into the sofa and sprawled out, planing to fall asleep if Kurt doesn't talk to her.

Rachel was lying in her room, staring at the wall.

 _How dare they interrupt in my beauty sleep, a actor always needs to look refreshed and beautiful the next morning._ She glared at the curtain, debating to herself whether or not to shout at Kurt. It had only been a few days since the bashing, and she didn't want him to get upset with her again. But he did need to stop rustling around in his room, _and_ he needed to stop talking to Santana and himself.

"Kurt Hummel!" She shreked at the top of her lungs as she heard him start singing a song.

"Shut up, Berry," Santana said from the living room. She heard Kurt kick her out, and also heard her snoring.

"What, Rachel," Kurt sighed from his part of the apartment. "It is a Friday, you don't need to sleep-"

"And you don't need to talk," Rachel snapped. "Kurt, just please, shut up,"

"No," Kurt said, softer than before.

"No?" Rachel asked.

"No," Kurt yawned. "Santana, you can come get your stuff now. I want to go to sleep."

"Finally," Rachel said, putting her head pack in her pillow and waited for Santana to go to sleep and stop moving.

 **During the night. Rachel's Point Of View.**

I woke up _again,_ to the sound of Kurt grunting in his room. What is he doing in there? Actually, I don't want to know.

A few minutes later, I was still awake because of Kurt, but now he was whining. And not I the pleasure way, in pain? No, right?

"Hey, Kurt," I called out. No response, he just carried on making noises. "Kurt!"

I slid reluctantly out of bed and padded over to his curtain. "Hey, are you alright?"

He still didn't say anything, I just heard a shuffle of duvet. I peeked my head around and layer my eyes on a sad sight. Kurt was curled up in a ball, sobbing. His eyes were closed though, however his arms were pushing away something invisible in front of him like he was awake.

"Hey, Kurt, you can wake up now," I mumbled, gaping at the sight in front of me. I sat on the corner on his bed and placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. I had never seen him like this since junior year, when his father had a heart attack.

I can see why he doesn't let us see him when he sleeps anymore. His hair fell on his forehead, and without his moisturiser and makeup, you could see freckles scatters across his cheeks and nose. He looked like a 7 year old.

"You need to get up, or I will leave up here," I demanded quietly. "I told you earlier that I need my sleep or else I would look like the devil."

"Rachel?" He panted, opening his eyes. He looked terrible. "Oh god."

"Hey, babe, calm down," I soothed him, rubbing his arm. A few seconds later I decided to say my opinion. "You look terrible, Kurt."

"Thanks, Rachel," He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "I, just, ergh."

"You can tell me," I pulled his comforter down to let him be cooler, and slipped in bed with him. I pulled him into a tight hug. I had never hugged _him_ before. Most of the time it was me being hugged. I could feel his chest over his night shirt raise rapidly, and I could hear his breaths. "I will stay here," I said.

"God you're sappy," He repeated from my apology a few weeks ago. "I am so sorry for waking you up."

"No, no, no. You need me," I was kind of annoyed at him for waking me up, but how can I be annoyed at him now? He looks so precious. I could feel him fall against me and I heard him sigh.

"You don't need to see me like this," He shook his head, as if to prove his point.

"I am your friend, Kurt. I love you too much to leave you here," I slowly raised him off me and laid out straight. I pulled him back into a hug, letting him snuggle against me.

"I am so, so sorry," He kept on apologising, but snuggled closer to me. I tried to avoid his cuts on his hands and face, whilst wrapping my arm around him. Kurt, being 6ft 1, made it uncomfortable to sleep right, but I would do anything for him. He looked so _vulnerable._

"Kurt?" I asked him after a few minutes.

"Yeah?" His voice sounded raspy and hurt.

"I love you," I smiled at him.

"Ah," He breathed, nodding against my shoulder.

"What? Are you going to say anything else?" I asked, astonished.

"No," He shrugged and closed his eyes.

"Please?" I whined. I looked down and saw that his face had softened, and that his eyes were closed lightly. He must be asleep. I decided to follow him and close my eyes.

"Yo, guys? Where is the milk?" I woke up and stretched, only to be stopped by the 135lb of Kurt ontop of me. During the night Kurt must have rolled onto me, and used my breasts as a pillow. _Huh_.

"What?" I called out, forgetting what the mystery person said.

"Where is the milk?" Artie called out. I made a noise that somehow alerted Artie to roll over to my room. "Look at that." He smiled.

"Artie, really," I yawned.

"It is cute, girl. Just look at him," He rolled over to the side of Kurt's bed and looked at Kurt. "He looks like a 5 year old." He chuckled lightly. Kurt must have been distributed as he rolled off me onto the edge of the bed, facing Artie.

"Be quiet, Rachel," Kurt murmured.

"Aww," Artie smiled at him.

Kurt shook his head lightly and pushed Artie, thinking Artie was me. "Shut up."

"Dude!" Artie said, locking his wheels in place. "God you are strong when you are sleeping."

"Hmmm, am I?" Kurt mumbled, with his eyes still closed.

"Does he know it's me?" Artie asked me, waving a hand in Kurt's direction.

"No, I don't think so," I whispered, pulling Kurt back over to face me. "Hey, Honey, you can wake up now."

"No, Rachel," He sighed, pulling a arm out and grabbing my arm with his hand. "You are warm and nice."

"Ah, well I won't be _warm_ and _nice_ if you don't get up," I muttered, trying to pull Kurt up by his shoulders.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel!" Santana shrieked just as I got Kurt into a sitting position. His eyes were still closed, and Artie was still watching, totally forgetting his milk.

"Ergh, _yes_ Santana Lopez?" Kurt said, hopefully loud enough so she could hear him, shooting open his eyes and looking at me.

"What the _hell_ did you put in here?" She stomped into his room and her hands on her hips, pulling her lips into a fine line. She looked like a sparkly Christmas decoration. Kurt sniggered and smiled at her.

"Oh, so it did work," Kurt said, shuffling over to me as Santana got closer to the bed, opposite Artie.

"I. Look. Like. A. _Fucking._ Fairy. Kurt," Santana shouted. You could practically see steam coming out of her ears. "I told you if you did anything to the moisturiser that I would hurt you."

"Oh, well," Kurt shrugged his shoulders. He ran a hand quickly through his damp, sweaty hair and sighed. His hair was still falling over his forehead, letting him look innocent and childish.

"Oh! Do you want me to drag you slowly and painfully until you tell me exactly what you used?" Santana asked sickly. Kurt wiped an arm over his forehead and sharply swished his head to the right, making his hair part and giving him a temporary fringe, like he had in sophomore year.

I must congratulate him later for having the ability to look younger. That would be very important on broadway to quickly get into character. To look the part you have be the part.

"No," He barely manage to croak out. He must still be overwhelmed by his nightmare.

"Well tell me what you did!" She demanded.

"I-I-I I put glitter in it," Kurt stuttered. "It is funny."

"No it isn't!" She glared at Kurt. "I am going on a plane later to see Brittany!"

"Santana, calm down," I tried to sooth her. Kurt looked horrified. He pushed himself closer to me. By now I was sitting up near the cushions, with Artie on my left and Santana on my right. Kurt was basically sitting on my lap, his head was craned back resting onto my shoulder.

"My face looks like a glitter ball," Santana said, stomping her foot on the floor. "Su hijo mentales."

"It isn't that bad," I sighed. She was being very inappropriate. "Go shower."

"Girl, I am sure Brittany will love the sparkles," Artie reassured her.

"Love it my ass," She muttered angrily, stomping off to the bathroom.

"I didn't know she was going to react that badly," Kurt croaked. "It was a joke, you know."

"Yeah, I know," I cooed, putting Kurt's hair to the side.

"So, guys, where's the milk?" Artie asked quietly, not meaning to interrupt me.

"In the fridge," I hissed at him, gently gliding my hands over Kurt's cut on his forehead. Kurts eyes were closed, but he was still awake. Artie rolled away, looking over his shoulder occasionally at us.

"Do you want to go talk about it?" I murmured against his neck, just above his scar he got when he was young. "We can leave when Santana has her shower so she doesn't see us."

"Ok," He agreed. "I need to do my hair."

"Sure, but quickly though." I told him, as I heard the shower running. Kurt jumped off his bed for the first time that morning and rushed over to his mirror.

"I looked terrible," Kurt grimaced. "God I hate my freckles."

"I think they look cute," I told him, catching his eye in the mirror. He smiled and started to fix his hair.

"So, what's up?" I asked him, taking the two cups of coffee from the waitress.

"I don't know Rachel," He shook his head. "I felt like _someone_ out to get me."

"Well, you know there isn't anyone," I reassured him as we took our seat in the corner of the coffee shop.

"Isn't there?" He argued. "It seems that everywhere I go there is someone against me."

"No there isn't Kurt," I said. "What about our apartment? NYADA?"

"Remember Rachel, Santana, your weird friends that seem to hate me." He reminded me, taking a sharp breath through his nose. "I don't feel safe anywhere."

"But there is always someone who loves you in those places," I smiled at him. "I am always here for you, you know."

"I know," He looked down. I saw on his cheeks that he left his freckles there. "I just don't want to feel this way."

"Kurt, look at me," I brought a hand to his face and raised his chin. "You are beautiful, you are strong and nothing can beat you."

He sighed and looked at me with glazed eyes.

"I will always be here for you, for you vent, for you to cry and to reassure you that you, Mr. Kurt Hummel, is the most amazing person I have ever seen in my life."

"Thanks Rachel," He grinned. "I wonder what Santana is doing right now."

"What _did_ you put in there?"

"Glitter and some sparkly balls."

"Oh she will be annoyed then," I approved. "That glitter won't come out for ages."

"I know," Kurt smiled a rare toothy smile. "I needed to get her back somehow."

"Oh wait, hold up, someone is calling me," I could feel the rumbling of my phone in my pocket, so I pulled it out to a unknown number. "Come here," I motioned Kurt to sit next to me, on the same seat, to hear the conversation. After he moved I opened the phone and let the call though.

" _I need to have a talk with you, Kurt Hummel. Get your ass back here now!"_ We could hear Santana shriek down the phone. " _What you put in there is now in my hair!"_

I pulled the phone away from my mouth. "Maybe we should go shopping and stay out for a bit longer, or until she has calmed down," I suggested.

"That might be the best idea," Kurt agreed, reaching to the phone and turning off the call. "Let's just leave her be for a bit."

"Yeah, I need to get some more shoes anyway," I nodded, sipping the last of my tea. I watched Kurt do the same, watched his face, his nose, his cute, cute freckles, and the way his nose twitched when he drank something hot.

 _He should be fine with me around._

 **Thanks for reading.**


End file.
